A Thread of Poetry ( Only Post Poetry HERE!! )
 

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:)

As Always T you manage to suck the air out of my lungs with your imagery..really heart-rendingly excellent..Such exquisite Pain..All the elements splayed open for vivisection by the cruelty of fate..Tragedy..So sweet in its fatal pull..Like a train wreck, you want to look away. but you cannot..That was almost like watching some wild beautiful animal jerking and twisting in its last fierce moments of life..










And then Stillness..



Thanks for letting us share the Bloodletting with you.You know how I Love it so..Its an Artform isn't it..

We Feel , We Live , We Know , We Bleed , We Are Stillness..

Ever As Always..
Every Living Thing Dances That Same Violent Dance
Over and Over
and Over Again

Sometimes we Ride that Fucking Fireball

And Sometimes that Fucking Fireball Rides Us...


Cohesion and The Absorbtion Rate of Fear.....

Given to me in an otherwise blank card with an amusing photo of a Trailer Trash Model on the front by the only girl I was ever in love with (I still don't know who wrote it; could have been her):

You are a pain in my head
You make my battery go dead
You cut the string on my kite
You are such a pretty sight

It's possible that the following twenty words are the best I ever put in a group ...



I consumed my crushes
like the juice of sweet fruit
And painted my hopes with honey
licked from their skins

it's been a long time since i've done any "real" writing.

i had two people in mind when this, for the most part, popped into my head. i'm pretty sure they know who they are.

i still feel it's lacking, though.

oh well *shrugs*


Do not fear the ghosts that haunt you
Nor the daemons that taunt you
Nor the devils that lurk in the corners
Of your subconsciousness
For I will help you vanquish them.

Do not feel that the past mocks you
Nor that its chains lock you
Nor that it should be the source
Of any embarrassment
For I will help you cherish it.

Do not feel that life eludes you
Nor that your dreams eschew you
Nor that your desires have left you void
Of any fulfillment
For I will help you accomplish them.

I am naught but a sad-eyed pixie
Without much to offer
But treasures few.
I cannot guide
And I will not follow
But I will battle alongside you.



it's rough, but it's been a while. haven't really had much inspiration in quite some time.

Another bio-poem I did for a friend... don't flame me too hard? ;)


If music be food of life, she be the wine:
A faery of moon-milk and flickering flame,
Captured by heartbeat but never by name,
The laughter at midnight that ices the spine.

A silvershot nymphet of luminous light,
Dances carefree on frost-written stone,
Blessed by starshine, power alone --
Creating the universe out of the night.

Fleet-footed creature, courting the shade
Dark within darkness under veil of the trees,
Tempers life's flame by the kiss of the breeze
And grins at the crystalline world she has made.

Thought I'd bring this out to get some sunlight..
Kinda like that Plant Leon loved so much in The Professional
And I guess that would make me Matilda
Or the Plant
Both loved beyond reason
Both left alone
One in the ground
One left alone to grow out of the ground
ooooo look a metaphor!!
Shiny!!

Mathilda: Leon, I think I'm falling in love with you. It's the first time for me, you know?
Léon: How do you know it's love if you've never been in love before?
Mathilda: 'Cause I feel it.
Léon: Where?
Mathilda: In my stomach. It's all warm. I always had a knot there and now... it's gone.
Léon: Mathilda, I'm glad you don't have a stomach ache any more. I don't think it means anything.
Mathilda: I don't give a shit about sleeping, Leon. I want love, or death. That's it.
Mathilda: I don't wanna lose you, Leon."
Léon: You're not going to lose me. You've given me a taste for life. I wanna be happy. Sleep in a bed, have roots. And you'll never be alone again, Mathilda. Please, go now, baby, go. Calm down, go now, go.

I love that movie. Everyone in it is fabulous, but especially Gary Oldman.

TStone,Takhisis,OTFW:Your poems rock!"They're like butter-cream icing no one sees you savoring at minight.

Stars:You suffer with such beauty and come back for the lash time and again.Such exquisite tortures.

again, i found myself struck suddenly with inspiration a few minutes ago while talking to someone.

i know it's rough....easy on the flames.




I wish that I could
Provide for you
All of the things you
Fear you lack.
But my hands are
Empty, my soul
Is barren, and my
Mind is slightly off track.

I would rally against
The whole kingdom of heaven
If it would only
Ease your pain.
But my hands are
Empty, my spirit
Misplaced, and my
Audacity would be in vain.

I would tiptoe through
Your consciousness
And plant seeds of
Blissful relief.
But my hands are
Empty, my path
Is lost, and my
Heart wanders in disbelief.

I will light up
Your eyes to provide
A beacon so that I
Will no longer stray.
Then my hands won’t
Be empty, my soul
Won’t be fruitless, and my
Spirit will find its way.

*sniffs* that was so beautiful. o my gosh i nevr heard such beauty of a poem so sad. bravo! bravo!

OTFW, something about the shape, the tone, the tightness and universe of the way you use words ... the perfect appearance of undiscipline when yet there must be such economy ...

I like your pieces. The rhythms resonate for me. VERY much.

Thank you.

*blush*

thank you, maimy.

i will hold that compliment in high regards. :D

My own writing ... depends very powerfully on syncopation. Weirdly, I write almost no poetry - but the shape of text, the syllabication, the timing of verb to adverb to adjective to chapter break ... they matter so much I'll change an entire page just to get pacing right. Pacing takes precedence over everything - word choice is secondary to word rhythm. It seems odd to me, because frankly word choice is *mentally* paramount, but when I get into a page the syllables trump the words - and, generally, what I end up with I like better. It forces me to make odd choices.

It forces my vocabulary to flex, every now and then.

Your vocabulary is supple, as is your rhythm. It's difficult to put my finger on why ... but your two poems above speak to me in a way my mind identifies with ...

OH i love your poem its so beautiful,sad,and true and i love it and i can relate to it. Very nice

Still a bit Raw..
Like me I suppose..
My body is winning this round tonite..
Hurting really bad..le sigh..
This was me trying to keep my mind off the pain wracking my body today:
And make trying to make sense of the Uncomprehensible..

*poem removed*

yes, maimy....i totally agree with you about rhythm. it doesn't have to be a set pattern, but it does need to flow. it needs to "sound right" to me. if i put together the most beautiful words with the most glorious intent ever known to creation, it would matter naught to me if they didn't just cascade off of my tongue with little or no energy.

and....even though i haven't written any poetry, well, anything really, in quite some time, i always have something floating around in my head. fragments of verses or lines, introductions to stories, a character analysis....something. when i was younger, i wrote lyrics and had dreams of becoming a "big time" song writer. only problem was, i couldn't write music and i didn't believe there was any way for someone to make a direct connetion to my brain to get the music EXACTLY as i heard it in my head. and some of the lyrics i wrote, i felt, had no business being paired with any music other than what i heard coming from my soul.

when it comes to poetry, it's always been an extremely personal thing for me. the prose i've written....narratives, essays, etc....is less so. poems express my feelings whereas prose expresses my thoughts and ideas. poetry (even though there are times i choose to share it) it written for ME. prose is written for others. i can prattle on all day when it comes to telling a story and take my words on a wild adventure, but when i write a poem, it's usually to-the-point and unflourished. the tightness of my words in poetry reflects the tightness with which i guard my feelings. lol i realize from some of my posts, it's probably hard to tell, but really....i AM very vigilant of my feelings. thoughts, ideas...hey....pft....no problem. i've got an endless supply of those to share. feelings....not so much. if ANY of that makes any sense at all.



now....for my latest bit.

been debating for a few days if i was going to post this.

it oozed out of me on monday after i got a message that just really irked the hell out of me. i didn't really take any time to refine it. i rarely do. i try not to make poetry a struggle. again with the cascades. if it doesn't flow easily for me from initial concept to paper, i don't usually bother.


*ahem* i present to you "ode to dumbfuck":


I once licked your spirit
And tasted every silent
Promise and unspoken surety
That you made to me
Before we even met.

Just like the sweetest honey,
It wrapped around my tongue
And toyed with my sanity
Until I lost all control,
Never to heal again.

I relinquished my heart,
My mind, and my soul
Without a thought of vanity
Only to be ridiculed and
Punished for wanting to love.

I now lick your spirit
And I can taste the evil
Lurking inside your personality
And all of the horrid deeds
And words you saved just for me.



ps thank you, omo.

pss forgive any typos i may have overlooked as i am still getting used to the claws again. :D

You and I seem to feel some things the same ways.

Lovely.

lol

ya know.....i didn't even think about that.

hmmmm.....was that YOU lurking in the back of my mind?? :wink:



maimy: the introspective inspiration.

It was the ghost of Maimys past. I wrote that like six or seven years ago, I think, so the emotions are a bit vacated.

Maybe now I know where they went ...

*Smile*

You're neat. Thank you for deciding *to* post that, rather than not.

And EPS, the absorbtion rate of fear ... You come up with phrases sometimes which really punch. That's very powerful.

Shanks Maim..

OTFW and I will be selling season tickets to the dark and oily passageways of our minds..


Not for the Faint of Heart..

Or Loin!!

:twisted:

Faint of loin. Hee!

Wel...
 

Here's a poem I wrote... I don't usually publicize my poetry though.


This is called "Silent Interruption".

Voices on the wind consume me
The speaker continues
Drowned out by the voice of the wind
And the voice of a blatant interruptor

I look back and forth
Seeing couples cuddling
As their very existence slides away
Into the eternal bleakness of one heart

One heart for the two of them
For one is hurting
One heart for the both of them
For one's heart is dead

The speaker continues
But I see the truth
More is going on than can meet the eye
Ever dwindling, ever caring

A sister has died
Her hand hits the floor
Her head now falls numbly
With eyes for despair
Her heart has stopped
A sister has died
A lover has fallen
With eyes of despair
She meets destiny
And hits the floor